Caelioli

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Mate: --- Family: --- Occupation: Archivist

Artwork: ---

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The thing about Caelioli is this; she never meant to stay.

When most dragons venture through the labyrinthine Wood and find their way to Nocte's borders, they are lost both in body and in soul. It is with purpose, most assume, that the Wood guides them to a place they might belong. Ergo, it's not hard to assume that Caelioli's story is of a similar kind.

Except, it isn't really.

Caelioli was a wanderer, surely, but she wasn't lost. As a matter of fact, the life of a traveling merchant suited her just fine, thank you very much. She'd been most of the way around the world by the time she found herself on Nocte's doorstep, just herself, her familiar, and the pack on her back.

She dealt in fine, rare things that glittered in the light-- The sort of things the greedy lusted over and the impoverished dreamed of. They were mostly baubles, to her; gold coins held a lot more sway than pretty stones, in her experience.

That said, Caelioli came to Nocte to peddle her wares ( which she did ) and not at all to stay ( but did, anyway. )

The offer to stay the night came with no strings or obligations and, looking back, Caelioli can only blame herself for accepting. In the firelight, she sat with the Archivists and told tales of her acquisitions; which was, as it happens, her favorite thing to do. Most of the fun of being a merchant came in getting her hands on her wares.

One night turned into two.

Into three.

Into four.

Into--

Well.

By the time Caelioli finally left, a personal order tucked away under her chest plate, she was just as soon coming back. And there was no point pretending it wouldn't happen again because of course it would. Off she'd got and then back she'd come, again and again, though the novelty of belonging somewhere never really wore off.

"From where do you hail?" customers will ask her, and Caelioli can only roll her eyes with fond exasperation and admit; "A place called Nocte."

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